Heaven Don't Hear Me
by twintailed
Summary: She's gone. They've played the games in the world of Infinity, and now it's all over. real!Syaoran/Sakura.


_**Heaven Don't Hear Me**_

_**a/n: **__Circa December 2007. This, as can be seen, is very old. But it's one of the pieces that I'm most proud of. As I like it so much I also entered an excerpt of it to the CLAMP Fanbook Project. I'm not sure what it is, but this fic, this idea, has always rung a chord in me. Despite being calm and fine so fine on the exterior, he would find himself crying over the fact Sakura 'dies', since everything happens so fast, he wouldn't be able to keep up with it all._

_The way to end this was inspired by the line in the song 'Vienna' by The Fray; _there's really no way to reach me.

_This takes place at the end of the Infinity arc, the night before everyone goes off to Celes._

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* * *

_

_I'm going out._

Those were the last words he'd spoken to his companions. No - not even _his_ companions. He didn't have the right to call them that. Where exactly he was going, Syaoran didn't know - but he knew he had to get away, out of that silent house. Just... _out_.

It wasn't like there was anywhere to go. Infinity didn't exactly have much more than row upon row of identical apartments and the underground where most of the games were played. It wasn't a world like the others - it was merely an empty space, where people battled for the prize. And yet, Syaoran was still wandering those empty streets, his footsteps echoing off into the night. His eyes were firm and set, unblinking, as his fists clenched together. Where was he going? He knew his feet were automatically leading him back to the house.

He didn't want to go back there. They had to wait a day before travelling onwards to Celes, and Syaoran couldn't take those twenty-four hours in the company of the ninja and the magician. The magician was unstable enough as it was.

Fai had _done that_, afterall.

As he walked, he gazed upright. Wasn't it supposed to rain at times like this? Rain so hard that he'd be soaked through till his body was as numb as his mind? Rain until he forgot everything, and only be able to scream her name against the thunder?

But there was no rain, as the night cast over.

Which would have been a blessing to a broken heart, soothing the pain.

Syaoran stopped walking, his toe stubbing against the side of his shoe, but he paid it no mind. Transfixed, he stared at a point on the floor - where a white bird was resting, calmly adoring the pavement, pecking away at crumbs that had been left behind. It looked up to match his gaze: before flying away into the distant night, Syaoran's head lifting to watch its progress.

He wanted to fly away, to fly after her. He wanted to fly away, and find his other. He wanted to fly away and be _free_. All that he had was a feather left behind by the bird.

And that made it impact on him all the more, as he crouched down, hugging his knees, picking it up slowly, and twisting it in her fingers.

The angel was dead. All that was left was the feather of her heart.

_Sakura was dead_.

. . . .

It didn't matter what that witch had said, is what Syaoran figured. He'd trusted her with protecting so many people, but part of him still couldn't face that she was alive, in that dream world. He'd _watched_ her die. That image was etched into his mind like a thousand scars, as a hopeful smile faded out of her face, as life departed her being.

As predicted, Syaoran found himself half heartedly pushing the door open, to no greeting. It seemed his personal space and distraught feelings had been taken into account, as both Fai and Kurogane had taken their leave. Silently, Syaoran closed the door, glancing into the darkness.

Sakura would be sat there, saddened, but still, sat there-

No. Not anymore.

He forced himself to walk. Every step was like a lifetime, every noise a breath, every silence death. Eventually, he lifted a hand to enter his room, and close the door firmly behind him. Why was he taking so much care? Why must every step he'd taken that day been so pristine? Why had he looked at Fai with such forgiving eyes? He knew - that it was a curse. He knew Fai had looked at him with utter sorrow, and knew that Fai had not wanted that to come to pass. But he should be angry, shouldn't he? Did he have that right?

He'd only known her properly for less than a month or two. Not all his life, like the other him. Even if she meant the world to him.

Obeying the thought, his feet led him to alongside the bed, which he sat down upon, the bed protesting by squeaking, and he sighed, a slow, mournful, little sound, that became part of the night itself.

"Sakura," he muttered under his breath. "Why did you suffer alone? Why did you... have to..." his voice cracked and failed.

She'd suffered quietly to herself. According to the witch, she'd had to stay silent, to avoid changing the future, to cause anything worse to happen. He'd heard it all from the witch - that he'd been the target for the curse. That, even as Sakura began to change it to herself, that Fai would go completely mad and destroy all in his path, killing both himself and Kurogane. Sakura had saved them all by her sacrifice.

His mind seemed to find some encouragement from the thought, as he looked up to watch the moon filter through the slats over the window that was half closed. If they went on, together, and Syaoran forgave like he had done, they'd find her body and her soul. They could do it. He'd have a purpose again, then. He'd lived for her for so long.

With ease, he threw his overalls to one side, removing his shirt in the process, picking at the bandages covering his torso. They would take time to heal, but at least they were wounds that would heal. They no longer stung against the material or complained when he covered them, which was a start.

And there was no blood oozing out from the wounds anymore, from the weather nor the recent events. There were several cuts and scrapes on his face, but those were nothing serious. He took slowly to rubbing his arms, finding it surprisingly cold - cold and eerie.

He wanted warmth, and longed for it, though his body could not provide. Her smile had been warmth. As she'd spoken the last words to him before the battle, he... when she'd showed him concern. He wanted that again.

She could come back, couldn't she? If they got to her in time. Before it'd be impossible.

But she's dead. And the thought? It just wouldn't leave Syaoran's mind alone. It infuriated him so much he had no emotion to express it, only to smile and let things be. Like he'd done all day. And now it had mounted, mounted so high he was falling from the edge.

_No._ He forced himself to think. _No. Stay focused. Stay... don't..._

_**Don't break down.**_

Her smiling face flashed across his memory, alive and well. Her saddened eyes, her plea. The sword, taking her last... last breath with a flourish-

Her body, her soul. Vanishing before his eyes. He hadn't kept his promise.

Syaoran's hands thudded against the opposite wall, leaving him with an odd stinging sensation. It didn't matter. The physical pain was nothing compared to his broken heart, his shattered, tattered, tearing heart.

It was all he could do, powering his weight into thudding hard into the wall, almost crumpling as his fists pounded against it, his head lowering as he stared at the floor.

"Give her back!" he yelled, to no one, as his anger banished away the free falling tears. Another weaker thud, ears strained for her to come running. Just to see her face again... _I want to see her again..._

"Please." His voice was odd, even to him, with some unknown depth of love, far from just wanting to protect her. It's every little thing. It's sweet, it's sorrowful, and... it's of a lover left behind.

Heaven wasn't listening to him, as he screamed into the night. It's wasn't reaching anyone. Syaoran knew that - but it's all he could do, now he knew the truth, now that he'd realized.

Slowly, he backed against the opposite wall like a criminal, hands pressing hard against it, until he fell to the floor, hiding his eyes, bringing his knees in close to his body.

_She's gone._ He thought solemnly, cracking his head against the stone wall behind him, as tears appeared at his closed eyelids. _And I don't know what to do._


End file.
